Tonight I Can Write the Saddest Lines
by The Pink Panda17
Summary: Oneshot EPOV: Edward has finally realized he is in love with Bella. How will he make it through Valentine's day when he is still not even sure how he even feels? R


_I was inspired when reading the timeline on the Twilight Lexicon page for the umpteenth time and reading an excerpt from Midnight Sun (or either really good fanfiction doesn't matter) from an anonymous source (cough cough) when Edward is talking to Carlisle in the Emergency room frustrated by his blatant infatuation with Bella and his bloodlust for her and Carlisle suggest maybe he has fallen in love. Now, reading the timeline I realized that Edward had ignored Bella all through February especially a very important day … enjoy_

I know that I will have to stay at least a ten-mile radius away from the house tonight.

The most dreaded day of the year; February fourteenth. A day of happiness, but only if you were in love. And I am. So why am I the most miserable person on Earth?

Because I am a complete idiot.

And again you ask why I must stay so far away from home. Living with three sexually-active couples on supposedly a day to celebrate your love combined with the ability of inhuman hearing and to hear thoughts was not only uncomfortable, but bringing up jealousy. Uncomfortable, because it feels like walking into a room at the wrong moment; something very personal and private, not for wandering eyes.

Jealousy, knowing even if I had the chance of ever having my feelings reciprocated, I would never get to experience such a bond: to stroke her cheek while leaning in, closing the distance between our lips, surrounded by her scent. To pull her close to me and kiss along her jaw down to her beautiful, supple…

'_Edward get up,'_ Alice thought, kicking my chin under the table.

I immediately straightened up, noticing I was slumped over my lunch tray, picking at a muffin. Alice was now looking at me with mild concern while Jasper held her hand under the table, looking at me with a sole eyebrow raised, wondering why the lust was pouring off me a second ago. On their other side, Rosalie was curled up to Emmett absorbed in him, Emmett whispering in her ear what was waiting for at home later tonight. You see my reason for zoning out.

So, I stiffly got up and dumped the contents of my food tray. For the first time in my immortal life I felt the necessity of a cold shower.

I settled for second best and walked out the cafeteria doors quickly for human pace, my concentration focused on not looking at the table across the room that contained the heart-shaped face I so greatly desired to touch just now. I ambled across the parking lot to the silver Volvo that awaited me like a pirate to its safety harbor.

I popped a CD of an alternative rock band that sounded familiar, but could not recall at the moment in my befuddled state. I leaned my head on the seat and closed my eyes, letting the music flow through me, numbing any thoughts or complex emotions in my brain with the blaring base and crashing sound of the drum solos. But, as many times as I tried to block it out, her face continued to make an appearance behind my pale eyelids. I groaned in exasperation every time this happened, and to any human it appeared as though I was having a bad nightmare, even though they were far from wrong.

Why was I torturing myself this way? Why could I keep denying what I wanted time to time again, ignoring every fiber in my body?

But then she would walk into the room, stirring her scent as she passed our shared lab table in bio and I remembered why.

If I truly…loved her, if what Carlisle said is true, would I bring her all that pain and suffering out of my selfishness? I know I can protect her from almost anything, but I am positive that I can't protect her from myself. Why would she love a monster like me?

I have seen the human relationship through the minds of many teenagers. Majority of them were never love, but only driven by physical attraction and an ever-growing sex drive. Nothing came close to the bonds that in my family. This gave me little hope. How could she truly love me if all she saw was a pretty face? It was no surprise to me as the adolescence mind is a very shallow pool, filled with muddled water, disorienting and clouding to the senses, potentially choking anyone who tests the waters.

The clattering of the bell disrupted my musings. Now was the true dilemma. How can I face going to biology after this? Carlisle would be disappointed if I took off for the rest of the day. I clenched my teeth and squared my shoulders, reaching for the handle. How would this day be any different? I would ignore her as always, and resist temptation in more ways than one.

I rushed out of the parking lot and before I knew it I was outside Biology class. I took my last breath of air and strode confidently to my seat.

Bella was already sitting in her seat, head down, doodling absently on her notebook. When I sat down, she noticeably stiffened. I sighed. I lowered my gaze to the table, tracing imaginary patterns in the faux wooden table. My face snapped up when an utterly vile stench entered the room, but yet again I was prejudiced.

Mike Newton.

In his eye was a tentative, but hungry look in his eye. He licked his lips, as if licking his chops seeing the waiter in a five star restaurant walking towards him with a filet mignon.

I internally gagged.

'_She looks hot today. Maybe she'll say yes and I'll get lucky…,'_Mike thought. The rest I cannot repeat in good conscience, knowing if I did I would rip him apart in sadistic pleasure. He seemed innocently naïve on the outside but his brain was rotting from overexposure to one too many Playboys.

A growl threatened to escape my chest. _'How dare he think about __my__ Bella like that?!'_ I reeled, astonished by not only the animosity in my voice but the possessiveness waiting to break out.

He ambled to our table and pulled up his stool, scooting closely to Bella. I noticed Bella leaned away from the close proximity. I was gloating on the inside.

"So Bella, any plans for tonight?," he asked huskily, and rather bolder than his usual grade school attempts like any other day.

Bella's eyebrow's pulled together and her lips pressed in a tight line.

"Yes, as a matter of fact I do."

Mike's cocky demeanor immediately vanished and was replaced by one of desperation.

"What are you doing tonight? It IS Valentine's day," he asked with strong curiosity but not to what she was doing but who his competition was. How pathetic.

Bella shot a wary glance at him from the corner of her eye. She would be the first person to remember it is Valentine's Day. Almost every single male in the school have given her something, like chocolates and roses or stuffed animals, and left them in her locker with a badly-written note. I snorted. Bella and Newton looked at me curiously as to what was so funny. I turned my body in the other direction, looking into space. They shrugged.

Newton looked back at Bella expectantly.

Bella sighed. "My mom is coming today to visit. I was hoping to spend some time with her. How about you go ask Jessica? I'm sure she would be thrilled to go," she suggested with false cheeriness. I think I was the only one who could tell she was lying because Newton completely bought it.

"Oh, okay then, maybe next time?" he said, defeated and a little pouty.

"Yeah, sure," Bella said unconvincingly.

And with that Newton sulked back to his seat, now thinking about Jessica. Bella sighed again, exasperated and slightly…disappointed? Who did she wish asked her out? I wondered who the boy was. He was very lucky and very stupid at the same time for not knowing this beautiful creature before me could truly make any man happy.

Mr. Banner entered the classroom just now and started a PowerPoint on succession of species from an ecosystem. But after a minor in ecology I'm sure there was nothing that Mr. Banner knew that I didn't. I allowed my mind to drift. To my classmate's it looked like I was perusing through my book, but in reality I was looking through the corner of my eye at my partner.

Of course, my first instinct whenever I see her is to snap her neck and feed on her blood, but once I contain myself and get past that, I have the urge to protect; to hold her and shield her from Newton's vile thoughts and Jessica's snarky notions, to take her face in my hands, to hold her hands and never let go.

My eyes traced her face starting with her chocolate brown eyes, her petite nose, to her fully-rounded lips. They moved from the curve of her neck to her youthful body, starting to show womanly curves, but sill girlish, still beautiful. My fist balled up on the side of my thigh. My need for a cold shower came back again.

I tore my gaze away from her and towards my notebook lying open on my side of the table. I grabbed it and started, absently, writing. I didn't even know I was writing until I was done. In the neatest calligraphy, so graceful and flawless was written:

_Tonight I Can Write  
Tonight I can write the saddest lines.  
Write, for example, "The night is starry  
and the stars are blue and shiver in the distance."  
The night wind revolves in the sky and sings.  
Tonight I can write the saddest lines.  
I loved her, and sometimes she loved me too.  
Through nights like this one I held her in my arms.  
I kissed her again and again under the endless sky.  
She loved me, sometimes I loved her too.  
How could one not have loved her great still eyes.  
Tonight I can write the saddest lines.  
To think that I do not have her. To feel that I have lost her.  
To hear the immense night, still more immense without her.  
And the verse falls to the soul like dew to the pasture.  
What does it matter that my love could not keep her.  
The night is starry and she is not with me.  
This is all. In the distance someone is singing. In the distance.  
My soul is not satisfied that it has lost her.  
My sight tries to find her as though to bring her closer.  
My heart looks for her, and she is not with me.  
The same night whitening the same trees.  
We, of that time, are no longer the same.  
I no longer love her, that's certain, but how I loved her.  
My voice tried to find the wind to touch her hearing.  
Another's. She will be another's. As she was before my kisses.  
Her voice, her bright body. Her infinite eyes.  
I no longer love her, that's certain, but maybe I love her.  
Love is so short, forgetting is so long.  
Because through nights like this one I held her in my arms  
my soul is not satisfied that it has lost her.  
Though this be the last pain that she makes me suffer  
and these the last verses that I write for her.  
_

_-Pablo Neruda_

I blinked. I had translated a Spanish love poem without noticing I had even done it. Even though I pretended to be mystified by it, I knew the reason had everything to do with the girl sitting next to me.

And it didn't stop there:

_My heart beats with you_

_Love your Guardian Angel and greatest admirer_

It was a love note. A living, breathing love note. I thought only preteen girls wrote these ridiculous notes drawn with lofty hearts and bad limericks, but apparently, the 100 year old vampire wrote one without meaning to.

At least it was a well written one. The bell found the opportune moment to ring again and I folded the note carefully and scooped up my books. I lingered by the door, wondering it I should just crumple up the note and throw it away. It only took me a fraction of a second to silently debate. I put it in my coat pocket and walked out the door.

On the way to my next class I passed by a hallway of lockers. One locker wafted a mouth watering scent. One guess to whose locker it was. I stopped in front of it and pulled the note out of my pocket. In a split second decision, I slipped the note through the vents.

I could've easily opened the locker again and retrieved the note without disturbing anything if I truly desired, but I walked away as quickly as I had appeared. Government passed slowly, like a man on death row. Would she know who wrote it? That would be mortifying, but yet again I could always dazzle her enough to forget about the note. But yet, a part of me deep down wanted her to read the note, to feel the satisfaction of her acceptance. So I sat there, watching the clock tick by until I could run out of the classroom and watch the human girl open her locker with the note hidden inside.

The moment the final bell of the day rung, I bolted out of the classroom. I leaned on the wall all the way down the hallway, far away from Bella's locker, appearing to be waiting for my siblings instead of watching closely for a certain locker to open.

A couple of minutes later, Bella strolled to her locker, stumbling a bit over someone trying to get into the locker below her, who shot her a disdainful glare of annoyance. She entered her combination and opened her locker, which was filled to the brim with gifts.

A piece of notebook paper nicely folded floated unto the floor from the humungous pile. Bella bent down to pick it up and was about to open it, when Jessica's shrill voice made Bella jump. She quickly stuffed it into her raincoat pocket.

"Hey!"

"Oh, um, hi Jessica. How was your Valentine's Day?," she asked politely. Jessica needed no other invitation to launch into her story on how Mike asked her out for tonight.

"That's great Jessica!," she said with fake excitement.

Jessica nodded and then eyed Bella's locker with jealousy. "Looks like someone has a lot of admirers," she said in a sour tone. Bella ignored it.

"You want these? I honestly don't know how I'm going to fit these into my car, yet alone my house."

Jessica brightened. "Sure! I love chocolate." With that Jessica helped Bella stuff all her gifts into trash bags. When they were done Jessica hauled the bags over her shoulder and wished Bella goodbye probably going off to show her friends how many gifts "she" got. Bella waved back. She then continued to put her books into her book bag and then closed her locker, heaving her small bag over her shoulder.

The moment of truth was now when she stuck her hand into her pocket again, pulling out the note. She unfolded it nimbly and spent a good minute reading it. Her reaction was unexpected. She leaned on the lockers and slid to the floor, tears spring to her eyes. She clutched the note close to her chest. And she smiled. A true, genuine smile. The first one to reach her face all day.

I turned around and started walking away, happiness radiating off of me, and a genuine smile of my own gracing my face.

I truly was an idiot.

--

_The poem is called poema 20 by Pablo Neruda. It is really pretty in Spanish and it reminded me of Bella and Edward. Also, this was inspired not only from what I said above but from "If I Never See Your Face Again" by Maroon 5 feat. Rihanna. Great song! The lyrics are a little iffy with this oneshot but the beat and most of the lyrics totally match Edward's perspective._

_Love it? Hate it? Could be improved? The only way I'll know is to review! wow that rhymed . aren't I cool Look at my other oneshot, __The Rise and Fall of Edward__! Less angst, lot more fluff I am shocked by my own seriousness in this one_

_Love,_

_The Pink Panda 17_


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